


"You Don't Have to Do This"

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Prompted Works [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Burns, M/M, Nonconsensual kissing, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maglor will do anything at all to protect Elrond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You Don't Have to Do This"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WayfaringScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayfaringScribe/gifts).



> Written for a drabble prompt on tumblr.
> 
> Imagine, if you will, Sauron elf-naping Maglor as revenge for Elrond urging Gil-Galad not to accept him into Lindon.

"Please don't do this," Maglor whispered. "You don't have to." 

Sauron said nothing, his back to the elf. Maglor was given nearly free reign of the fortress since his capture, and now he walked up behind Sauron, seemingly without fear. 

"You have a choice, Mairon," he said. "We all have a choice, whether or not we make good choices is up to us." 

"Leave," Sauron's lips barely moved. Maglor didn't budge. "I said leave!" he roared, turning and knocking Maglor back with a burst of energy. 

Maglor was flung across the room, crashing into the wall and sliding to land in a heap on the ground. Everything ached from the impact, and he was momentarily stunned. He sat unmoving as the flames leapt to his sleeve and danced up his shirt. Although he could hear the crackling of the fire he didn't move, it felt as though it were happening to someone else. He couldn't be burning, nay, Sauron would not burn him. Makalaure, son of Feanor did not burn. 

He sleeve could not be on fire, it just wasn't possible. If he just sat there long enough he would remember what was truly happening. 

"Maglor move!" Sauron shouted, storming across the room. 

He didn't move, entranced by the flames moving up his sleeve. All he felt was a pleasant tingling sensation. Numbly he wondered if this was what Maedhros had felt when he jumped into the fiery pit. Maglor didn't have time to think of much else, Sauron was grabbing him and screaming, he vaguely registered that the fire was being patted and extinguished. 

Maglor didn't snap back into awareness even as someone slapped his face. "You damn fool!" Sauron shouted. "You cannot even take care of yourself properly." 

He was shoved to the ground and Sauron stood, screaming obscenities at him, cursing him and threatening to feed him to the orcs. "My apologies," he whispered. 

Sauron grabbed him by his hair, yanking him to his feet and dragging him across the room. Maglor was roughly sat on a stool, his burnt shirt stripped off his chest and thrown aside. Sauron was efficient – but not gentle – as he ran water over the elf's burns, his hands shaking as he worked. "I cannot turn my back on you for one moment," he snarled at him. "You are mine, elf." Rough hands wrapped bandages around blackened flesh. "I am the only one who hurts you, do you understand." 

"Of course." The smell of burnt flesh struck him then, overwhelming and horrid. A moment later feeling returned to his arm and he let out a strangled sob as he realized how badly it hurt. "Make it stop," he rasped. 

Sauron said nothing, standing and turning his back on Maglor. The wounded elf struggled to remember what they had been fighting over after all, what had driven him to such madness that he was willing to risk angering Sauron? 

It returned to him in a rush, Sauron's threat against Elrond. He was going to catch the Peredhel and bring him there, kill him, rip him apart. "Leave Elrond be!" he begged. "I am here Sauron, you don't need him." 

Sauron looked back at him, eyes black and angry. "He turned me away as though I were nothing, telling his bed warmer that I was not to be trusted." 

Maglor looked down at his hand, studying the bandages which were neatly wrapped. Sauron despised imperfection. "He meant you no harm. You have me, is that not enough?"  
Sauron turned back, looking at the elf. "On one condition," he said after a moment. 

"Anything." He had nothing to lose. Maglor's life was nothing compared to Elrond. Truly he would do anything to keep his foster son alive. 

"Come here." Sauron crooked a finger, motioning his captive closer. 

Maglor moved willing, standing and leaning on the table for a moment, struggling to keep his balance as he did so. He would never have thought that the pain in his arm would make the rest of his body so weak. It was not like when he had burned his hand on the Silmaril, no, this was a different type of pain altogether. That had been a warning, and now there was no purpose, no drive to keep him moving. But there was Elrond. 

He took a deep breath and moved on shaky legs, approaching Sauron with curiosity in his eyes. Sauron caught him when he was closer, taking his hand and pulling him to stand against him. Maglor distrusted him deeply, and didn't want to be pressed this close to the Maia under any circumstance. "Yes?" he asked curiously. 

"Be quiet," Sauron snapped, glaring down at the elf. 

Maglor didn't like the way he stared at him, the way his eyes glowed with want even as he scowled. It was as though he were admiring a particularly delectable piece of meat. Then Sauron bent over him and pressed their lips together, Maglor stiffened, not moving. 

Sauron pulled back. "Return the kiss. I presume you've done it before?" 

For a moment Maglor didn't reply, of course he had kissed before. There was the tempting thought of telling Sauron to go and fuck himself, but he reminded himself why he was doing this – for Elrond, anything for Elrond – and leaned his head back, opening his mouth and allowing the Maia to descend on his mouth.


End file.
